


I'm in the bright lights but I still feel darkness

by UniversallyEcho



Category: Soy Luna (TV)
Genre: Also Simón isn't introduced until after Matteo and Ámbar break up, Alternate Universe, Awkwardness, F/M, First Meetings, Fluff, Pretend the Roller band is as famous as they deserve to be and not as the writers wrote them, Ámbar doesn't go through her dark phase
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-12-02
Updated: 2019-12-02
Packaged: 2021-02-24 17:07:44
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,127
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21641443
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/UniversallyEcho/pseuds/UniversallyEcho
Summary: He cups the back of his neck awkwardly and tugs at the hair, unsure of how to respond.Ámbar figures that if she’s going to embarrass herself in front of this cute boy, she might as well go all out. It might even be kind of healing to finally yell at somebody.“It’s one in the morning! People are trying to sleep! Look I’m glad you have a healthy sex life and all but can you at least give me a warning before hand so I can buy some noise cancelling headphones!?”Or; Ámbar makes a bad judgement call. Maybe, don't introduce yourself to your neighbour when you're sleep deprived and delusional.
Relationships: Ámbar Smith/Simón Álvarez
Comments: 14
Kudos: 19





	I'm in the bright lights but I still feel darkness

**Author's Note:**

> The title is taken from the song "Heartbreak back" by Frank Walker.

The apartment looks different than how she imagined it to.

A lot less like the Pinterest board she spent her weekend nights constructing with pictures of tall ceiling chandeliers and gold heart cushions to match the off white fur rug. Instead, she’s forced to settle with dark wood floors and cluttered wall decorations that make her feel cold and uneasy. Resembling the absolute furthest from the Barbie dream apartment she imagined. Even with all her furniture moved in, it still feels empty. Or maybe _she_ just feels empty.

It was an emotion she was getting used to feeling lately.

The apartment itself was nice. A one bathroom, one bed apartment was usually nothing special but matched with a fantastic view and an outside balcony, especially in such a busy part of the city, was unheard of. 

When she convinced her godmother that she needed to move into her own apartment, deeming the mansion she used to live in too far from her internship job, Sharon had insisted on finding her the absolute best, as only that would be worthy of Ámbar. At least that's what _she_ stated. Ámbar thinks Sharon was just trying to ease the guilt in her heart, if she has one, at being secretly relieved that Ámbar was moving. 

Though really, Ámbar doesn't blame her. 

Sharon wants everyone around her to envy her. To bask in her success and money and it's hard to do so when all everyone is looking at, is the failure of a goddaughter that you raised. 

It's not even the academic rejection or disastrous breakup that label her a failure. It's her inability to brush it all off and look happy despite it.

Rich people are _supposed_ to be happy, that's what they do. Or at least, that's what they pretend to do. Ámbar was expected to hide her sadness behind a new pair of shoes and a lavish spa day. Understandably, that isn't quite enough to dwell her heartbreak. In her godmother eyes, this still wasn't reason enough to ruin her image. 

“I know your going through a hard time right now but it's bad for publicity if you follow me around like a lost puppy on the verge of tears in every photo”

These were the words out of her godmothers mouth a few days before Ámbar had the genius idea to move. 

Well, that wasn't _exactly_ what she said. At least not word for word, but Ámbar got the gist of it. Basically just “stop being a baby and learn to control your emotions”. 

The only reasonable response was to move out on her own at the young age of nineteen. Obviously. 

It's not like she was making a huge, life altering, decision. She really did need to move closer to her internship position at Elle magazine, and this way she could process her emotions, and learn to move on, at her own pace without being suffocated by everyone's concern. 

All in all, things could be a lot worse. At least that's what she keeps telling herself. 

That's what she told herself when she ordered a new velvet couch on an overpriced designer site. That's what she told herself when the movers came up and started packing away her room, _and along with it all her childhood memories,_ only to unpack it all in a new place she was meant to call home. That's what she told herself when she rejected her friends offer to come over, telling them to go the exclusive party they've been wanting to go to and that she’ll stay home. Claiming it was **_not_ ** because her ex boyfriend is going to be there, she's just really busy. 

Even now she repeats the mantra in her head as her phone blows up with notifications, no doubt from Jazmín or Delfi.

Or both. 

(10:46 pm) 

Jaz: This party is awesome! There's a chocolate fountain and Ramiro’s filming Jim using it as a chaser to tequila shots!

(10:48 pm) 

Jaz: Ámbar!

(10:48 pm) 

Delfi: Ámbar, seriously you need to come join us! 

Jaz: Come on just for a few minutes! Ramiro made the mistake of winking at another girl and now Yam is dancing with a random guy as revenge.

(10:50 pm) 

Jaz: Wait! Omg! I think the guy she's with is the son of that actress we met at her movie premiere. The one with the accent!

(10:52 pm) 

Jaz: ÁMBAR! Ramiro just punched the cute son of the actress! I think his nose is broken! 

(10:55 pm) 

Delfi: I know you’re kind of bummed about not being accepted into that design program in France but you shouldn't let it control your life like this. 

Jaz: Harsh, Delfi. 

Jaz: Ámbar, you’re allowed to be upset. I would be sobbing right now if I had the chance to shop the street of Avenue Montaigne and then couldn’t go. 

Jaz: Imagine the purses! 

Jaz: The shoes!

Delfi: I think she gets it Jazmín. 

Ámbar’s gaze is flickering as she reads through the messages haphazardly. 

She couldn't care less about the newest drama surrounding their party and she's become such a pro at responding to Jazmín’s gossip with fake enthusiasm that she doesn't blink twice at her texts. It’s only once they start talking about her being upset that she tunes back into the conversation.

(10:55 pm) 

Jazmín: I’m just saying, let her grieve a little. I mean it makes sense, missing out on the French champagne and all the free designer swag she could have gotten. 

Ámbar rolls her eyes at Delfi’s obvious lack of empathy and Jazmín’s materialistic obsession. They wouldn’t get it. Neither of them would understand what she’s going through right now. They’ve never had to fight so hard to prove themselves to everyone. She doesn’t even remember a time when winning and happiness didn’t go hand in hand.

And it’s not fair to blame them for it, it’s just how they were raised. Their childhood’s weren’t adversely affected by constant correction and criticism, affection only coming into play if she did something to ‘earn it’. 

But she can’t help herself to be a little bitter. It’s easier to lash out against someone than admit that the person you’re actually mad at is yourself.

Taking a deep breath, she exhales slowly before typing back a response. One that’s generic and uninterested but aloof enough to pretend that she’s at least semi-handling herself.

Once she watches it send through, she turns her phone off completely and spends her time before getting ready for sleep to unpack a couple of boxes containing her essentials. 

She watches her new mattress decompress and rolls it onto her temporary makeshift bed. It's not long after she's settled herself on top of the covers that her eyes close, tired from the day, and she falls into a shallow sleep. 

\--

There’s a banging thud coming from the wall that connects her room to her neighbor’s. 

A banging thud that started twenty minutes ago and doesn’t seem to be slowing or quieting anytime soon.

It would be a lie to say that she was sleeping peacefully when it woke her. The crumpled sheets that were twisted around her from the amount of times she turned restlessly spoke for themselves, but at least she was _sleeping._ It’s been over a week since she’s spent a night unconscious for more than three hours in a row and this time it really seemed like she was finally going to get a proper amount of rest. 

That is until her neighbor decided that tonight was the night to try and spawn satan in his living room. 

Ámbar sits up and rubs her eyes, reluctantly turning to look at the wall behind her, where the noise is clearly coming from. It’s a lot of scraping, banging and thudding. If it weren’t for the fact that the noise was so loud she could feel it echoing in her brain, Ámbar would almost be impressed at it’s screeching intensity. 

She wondered if it would be rude to knock on the door and ask for an explanation. It couldn’t be any more rude than creating such a commotion at 1 in the morning right? Besides, for all she knows, someone could be being murdered in there. 

The only thing stopping Ámbar from marching right up and demanding some peace and quiet was the fact that she had only just recently moved. She didn’t yet know and understand the procedure that followed complaints about neighbours, since she’d never had to deal with that in the mansion. For the longest time when she lived there, practically alone, it was so quiet in the halls that she wondered if anyone would even notice if she just up and disappeared. And then Luna moved in, and almost every night would be a different occasion for her and her friends to celebrate and Ámbar blocked it out by blasting music in her room. She could just try to use what she did for Luna against her neighbor but she assumes that the only thing blasting music would do is make the actual tenant annoyed enough to kick her out.

She wonders if there's a manual for these things. Maybe there's a secret code she doesn’t know about. Maybe she’s supposed to act like the understanding and sweet neighbour who's just moved in only to go file a complaint behind his back and get _him_ kicked out. That’s how Sharon would handle this situation.

Ámbar has to remind herself that thinking like Sharon is what got her into such a mess in the first place.

She takes a deep breath and looks up at the ceiling in an attempt to soothe her frustrations and is about to close her eyes to try to fall back asleep once more when another loud noise emerges from the other side of the wall.

This time it’s a groan. A loud, male, deep thrumming groan.

Oh.

_OH._

_So that’s what her neighbour is doing at 1 am?!_

Ámbar would like to think that she’s a mature individual who can handle the fact that there are other adults in this apartment and they can do whatever they’d like with their free time. She would like to think that she’s calm and reasonable and just because she just had an excruciating break up doesn’t mean that she expects everyone else to be loveless and alone, so it doesn’t bother her at all that it’s being thrown in her face that others are getting it this late in the night when she’s not getting it at all.

Frankly, Ámbar can think whatever the hell she wants about herself, but any merit to those thoughts are stripped away when she finds herself standing in front of her wall-sharing neighbour’s door, knocking rhythmically and angrily against the frame. 

It’s not until the third knock that she hears the commotion inside stop. There’s a pause in each movement, like the person inside is expecting Ámbar to leave at the sudden lack of noise but Ámbar is nowhere near done. Lack of sleep mixed with emotional constipation does extreme things to one’s fury and right now Ámbar is so mentally unstable, she could chug down a bottle of vodka and not even flinch. She was running on pure adrenaline.

There's hesitance in the way the door opens, first just by a fraction, and then all at once, until Ámbar is faced with a young guy staring back at her. It’s not that she didn’t expect him to open the door, she just didn’t expect him to look the way he did. Ámbar has eyes. She can admit that, despite the amount of sorrow he was causing her, he is _attractive._

He was at least a head taller than her, she almost had to strain her neck to look him right in the eyes, not that it mattered anyway because his shaggy brown hair swept right over them, leaving only a glimmer of the dark topaz orbs at view. She wondered how long it’s been since his last haircut? It doesn’t take her eyes very long to drift over the rest of his body. He was wearing a sheer white t-shirt and his muscles, his _muscles_ were straining against the fabric. It probably didn’t help that he had a sheen of sweat covering his body, making the t-shirt even more see-through than it already was.

_What did she come here for again?_

It’s only once the man at the door coughs awkwardly and they make eye contact that she’s startled out of her daydream.

“Do you have no respect for your neighbours!” 

The words come out louder and harsher than she had practiced them in her head, and she winces internally at how obvious it is that she’s overcompensating for the lack of actual anger she feels towards him.

“Um…” 

He cups the back of his neck awkwardly and tugs at the hair, unsure of how to respond. 

Ámbar figures that if she’s going to embarrass herself in front of this cute boy, she might as well go all out. It might even be kind of healing to finally yell at somebody. 

“It’s one in the morning! People are trying to sleep! Look I’m glad you have a healthy sex life and all but can you at least give me a warning before hand so I can buy some noise cancelling headphones!?”

She expects him to grow annoyed at her bluntness and slam the door in her face or even roll his eyes before returning to his sexual ‘escapades’. His confused expression and slightly red complexion is not how she expected him to react. With his head tilted slightly to the side and his round eyes questioning her statement, she almost felt bad for using him as her target of aggression. _Almost._

“I don’t care when or who you fuck, it’s none of my busniness but at least have the common courtesy to be quiet about it when it’s this late in the night!” 

Even Ámbar herself could realize that she was being a little harsh but at this point there was no way to go but forward, so she finished her yelling and crossed her arms against her chest, waiting for a response, hopefully an apology. 

A full smile graces the boys face and his low throaty chuckle sends a wave of heat through Ámbars body. 

Okay, so _not_ an apology.

“I wasn’t - I didn’t -” 

His words are muffled as he tries to stammer through a coherent sentence but his constant laughing is getting in the way. Ámbar grows more annoyed as seconds tick on, which she didn’t even think was possible. He glances at her unimpressed face one more time and chuckles before turning to open his door a little wider, giving her a clear view of his living room.

The entire room is a mess, cardboard boxes and pieces of paper, screws and plastic bags everywhere. She can feel him watching her reaction, as if this act will explain everything, but all Ámbar can see is a typical young adult boy’s filthy room and a half built piece ikea furniture. The pieces of wood look like they’d eventually be made into a desk but it doesn’t seem like it’s even close to being finished. Coincidentally, it’s actually this monstrosity of furniture that is pushed against the wall they share.

Ámbar’s ashamed to say it takes her a second to put two and two together.

Once she does though, she continues her blank expression, refusing to give this boy even an ounce of satisfaction at her humiliation. 

It might be her fault at making assumptions but honestly, he was basically _moaning_ ! Who ever has _this_ much trouble putting furniture together!? What else was she supposed to think?

Ámbar blames it on her mattress. The one in the mansion was so soft she could sleep through everything, it’s _not_ her fault her new cheap one was as comfortable as a rock that she could hear even the softest hum and wake up grumpy. _It’s not._

Clearing her throat, and regathering any sort of dignity that she still holds she states, “Sorry, I seem to have overreacted a little. You can go back to,” She waves in the direction of his furniture, “whatever you were doing.” 

She’s only managed to take a step into the direction of her room when she feels a gentle hand reach for her arm. The grasp is not very strong, and she could easily twist out of it, but a small part of her wants to see how the rest of this interaction will play out if she doesn’t. The boy seems a little shocked that she halts and turns back towards him but quickly continues what he was going to say, worried that if he doesn’t get the words out quick enough she’ll try to leave again.

“You can’t just accuse me of something like that and then leave immediately once proven wrong.” His tone is one of amusement and Ámbar can tell he’s trying to be playful so she doesn’t feel embarrassed. It’s almost worse that he’s such a gentleman, Ámbar would have preferred a screaming, rageful grouch. 

“Yes, well, I’m sorry that my first thought after hearing the ruckus wasn’t that an adult, capable and smart enough to have his own apartment complex, was having trouble building furniture.” It’s obvious that her words aren’t sincere, she doesn’t even bother hiding the grimace on her face, it’s clear as day to any person on the planet that she’s mocking him and his pathetic handy-man skills. And yet, the next words out of his mouth are, “I accept your apology.”

Ámbar doesn’t respond, staring at him shell-shocked. _He wasn’t even being sarcastic! He genuinely meant what he said and smiled at her afterwards!_ Thankfully, he doesn’t notice her ‘spiralling into madness’ expression and continues the conversation, “I swear, I really didn’t know anyone else was here. The rest of this apartment is filled with middle aged moms and today they all went to the bar and usually don’t get back until like 3 in the morning. If I knew there was someone here who was actually trying to sleep, I would have been more careful with the noise.”

His smile is sheepish and inviting and for once, Ámbar actually feels a little bad for getting prematurely angry at someone . 

“I don’t even understand how you could make that much noise trying to put together Ikea furniture.” She says judgmentally. She might feel bad but that doesn’t mean she’s going to apologize.

He doesn’t seem to mind though, taking her insult as a joke. He laughs before responding with, “Hey, it’s a lot harder than it looks.” 

Ámbar just shakes her head, “There are literally step by step instructions.” 

Her voice comes out so unimpressed that it sends the boy into another string of laughter. It takes every muscle in her body tensing to stop herself from revealing the small smile that creeps up against her will.

“Besides, why are you building it by yourself. Don’t you have any friends who could help?”

The question is a little hypocritical, considering she’s not really sure if _she_ even has any friends right now. Certainly not any who would come over and just spend the day doing generic chores. Then again, she would never buy furniture from Ikea, and _if_ she did, she would pay someone to build it for her.

A sigh interrupts her thoughts and her gaze returns to boy’s face, who now looks a little crestfallen. 

“The other two that I share this apartment with went to a party tonight, one with his girlfriend and the other I’m sure is flirting with any girl he spots there.” 

His words don’t sound bitter, but they’re not _exactly_ happy either, and before she has a chance to think through what she’s about to say, she blurts out, “You don’t have a girlfriend to take to this party?”

He watches her curiously as Ámbar comes to terms with the fact that she must be absolutely losing her marbles. _Why would she ask him that?_

His answer is a little cautious, as if he doesn’t know what she’s looking for in his response, but he finally states, “No, no girlfriend. But even if I did, I still don’t think I’d want to go. Whenever, the three of us go anywhere, we end up performing, at least one song, and while it is flattering that people want to hear our songs, it makes the night feel more like work than fun.” 

Ámbar nods her head slowly, while simultaneously trying to act casual and process the amount of information he just shared. She doesn’t care that he doesn’t have a girlfriend. Really, she doesn’t. She just got out of a messy breakup and no matter how cute or charming this boy is, she knows that jumping into a new relationship will only hurt them both. Not to mention, that she doesn’t even know his name yet. So, instead, she decides to focus on the latter half of the shared info.

“You’re in a band?”

Another smile lights up his face, assuring Ámbar that she made the right choice by asking about it. She tries really hard to concentrate on what he’s saying, since she really is interested in learning more about this guy, for whatever reason, but she gets just slightly distracted by his face. His face is doing that scrunched up thing it did when he first revealed the cause behind the noise and his talking is so animated and full of life that Ámbar feels herself smile for the first time in the past couple of weeks.

The only words she manages to hear over her haze of admiring him is the end of his sentence, “we only have a few albums under the Rollerband name but I’m sure we’ll get more out soon.”  
  


_Rollerband? Why had she heard that name before?_

The past month, full of a whirlwind of conflicting emotions, had been so overwhelming for Ámbar, that most of the actual events that had happened during this time were slightly blocked from her memory. It’s not that she didn’t care about her friends or was so selfish that she didn’t bother remembering anything that didn’t clearly include her, she did care. No matter how shitty she was at showing it. She was just too exhausted to deal with more people after everything that happened in her personal life. What she did remember though, was Delfi talking endlessly about a new boy she had just started dating. He was a drummer in a band, that she could've sworn had the same name. 

“Wait, the guy in your band, the one who has a girlfriend, is his name Pedro?” 

The boy in front of her seems only a little surprised at her question which would only be alarming if he didn’t immediately explain himself, “Yeah...I knew I recognized you from somewhere! Ámbar Smith right? We met at an open night in the rink but I don’t think you were there long enough for me to properly introduce myself.” 

Ámbar finds herself a little uncomfortable at the revelation that he’s not actually just a random stranger. She’d been trying so hard for weeks to keep her true emotions in check in front of people who knew her that she jumped at the opportunity to vent at a stranger. She assumed that even if the confrontation went horribly, the worst that would happen would be that she had a new person she’d add to her list of people to avoid. And it’s not even that this encounter was going bad, he didn’t seem offended at her frank words and she found him more charismatic than she initially thought. The only problem was that she came in her fuzzy pyjamas, with her hair in a messy bun and not a trace of makeup on her face and made a complete fool of herself in front of a guy that was potentially going to be an important and recurrent figure in her friend group. 

Strangely enough, he didn’t actually seem disappointed to find out her identity. If anything, he seemed excited? She couldn’t wrap her head around it but the way his eyes lit up when he recognized her made her feel anything but unwelcome.

“I guess nows a better time than any” Ámbar snaps back to reality, confused at his statement until the boy holds out his hand for her to shake, “Simón Alvarez, nice to meet you.” 

Ámbar lets out a small smile while glancing at his hand before grasping it without a second thought. The handshake is firm and she can feel his rings rubs against her palm, sending an unexpected shiver through her spine.

“Ámbar Smith, but I guess you already know that.” She responds, thanking the universe that her voice doesn’t sound as shaky as she feels.

It’s only as they’re shaking hands that she realizes how close in distance they actually are. She’s only a couple of steps away from him and their height difference has her directly in front of his lips, she drops her eyes immediately once she realizes how long she’s been staring at them. _Did he notice how his lips had enraptured her attention?_ Too scared to look up for a reaction, her gaze settles from the dog tag necklace hanging from his neck to the center of his chest. She lets her mind wonder for a minute how it would feel to be pressed against his chest, she has no real reason to back her up but she has a feeling they’d fit perfectly against each other. _He probably gives really good hugs._

The sudden thought overwhelms her and she has to blink her eyes furiously to refocus her attention. Okay, so maybe his eyes would actually be the least dangerous viewpoint for her heart.

Only, all odds seem to be against her because when she looks back up his cocoa brown eyes are staring right at her. He looks more serious now, his mouth doesn’t have the same upturn of his lips and his gaze isn’t wandering. She can clearly observe each of his features, from the way his bushy eyebrows are raised as he waits expectantly for her next move, and the line of his shoulders as his muscles are relaxed while he leans slightly against the door frame. He also has a dimple in the middle of his chin, the slightest imperfect indentation that balances out the rest of his features. It’s a bit of a terrifying thought that Ámbar wants to lean up and kiss it, she doesn’t, she has to have _some_ kind of self control, but it’s a really close call.

“I can’t believe I didn’t recognize you earlier, I could never forget such beautiful eyes.”

God, it sounded like such a classic pickup line. She’d even consider asking him what book he learnt that from, you know, once she remembered how to _breathe_ again. She never thought she’d be able to fall for a guy who spewed such cheesy romantic nonsense, and yet here she was, falling so very ungracefully.

_“I could never forget such beautiful eyes.”_

Her heart skips a beat and she would believe that any second he would crack a joke or say he was kidding and calm the obvious tension being built between them, but he doesn’t. Almost like he isn’t scared of the silence or heavy lingering gazes, like he knows that what he just said could be the start of something so wonderfully, beautifully, _heartbreaking_ and he’s deciding to continue anyway.

But she wouldn’t be Ámbar if she didn’t still have some reluctance towards new beginnings. Despite the magical, heart fluttering interaction that just happened, she still had meter long iron walls built around her heart, none of which could be broken down in the fifteen minutes that she spent outside Simón’s apartment. 

“I-I’ve got to get back to my room, I have an early work appointment tomorrow.” She says, expecting disappointment to flash across Simón’s face. All she sees though is understanding, his perfect face only sharing an encouraging smile back at her.

“Yeah, it’s getting pretty late, i’ll try to keep the noise to a minimum, wouldn’t want any more pretty girls knocking down my door in their pink fuzzy slippers.” Ámbar releases a mock-indignant sound of disbelief, she doesn’t even have to look down at her feet to recognize exactly what pair he’s talking about. _They were a gift from her grandfather, besides they were too comfy to throw away._ Honestly, Ámbar’s more surprised that he didn’t bring them up sooner. 

With her cheeks thoroughly flushed and her heart a lot lighter than it’s felt in a very long time, Ámbar asks, “I’ll see you around?” 

Her question is met with a nod so she ends the night satisfied and returns to her room. Once the door clicks shut she presses her back against it, the dumbest, widest smile growing on her face that. On any other night she would ridicule herself for having it. Tonight, though, she just enjoys the glow of the moon that shines on her through her window as she bites her lip, thinking about what just happened. Once she feels fully back in control of her emotions she reaches for her phone, opening the screen and sending a text to Delfi and Jazmín.

(1:33 am) 

Ámbar: Are we still on for the Rollerband concert next week?

(1:34 am) 

Delfi: I thought you had an assignment due that day.

Ámbar: It got pushed forward, besides, I want to properly meet your boyfriend this time.

Delfi: Oh Ámbar, you’ll love him! He’s the absolute sweetest! When I told him about going to his concert, he gave me three V.I.P paasses for us to share!

(1:35 am) 

Jaz: Do you think we could try to find me a boyfriend at this concert? I feel like a major third wheel whenever I hang around you, Delph.

Delfi: Oh come on, we’re not that bad. Tell her Ámbar!

Jaz: Ámbar, Delfi was mad at Pedro and was using me to tell him things so she could still give him the silent treatment

Delfi: That’s completely normal.

(1:36 am) 

Jaz: You were doing this WHILE SITTING ON HIS LAP!

Ámbar chuckles at their argument and goes to interfere them before the next world war erupts between the two.

  
She still has those walls built way high up. All from past experiences that she can never forget. Maybe though, _maybe_ , this was her first step to taking them down.

**Author's Note:**

> I'm actually so proud of myself for having enough self restraint to not end this fic with *fade to black* because I very nearly did that.
> 
> Anyway, as always, this is very self-indulgent and I may have kind of just babbled on for 4000 words. But to be fair, I wanted to explore a bit how Ámbar would feel if everything happened, as it did but this time, no rollerband. So, no cameras, no drink pouring, no fire. Just a really heartbreaking breakup and Ámbar having to deal with learning who she is without Matteo and without the support of her godmother.
> 
> Also, I'm SO sorry for taking ages to write this. I honestly have just been in a bit of slump in all areas of life this month, but I think this fic will be the start of a very productive beginning. At least that's what I keep telling myself.
> 
> As always, I have a tumblr (theuniversezecho) where you can reach me with your ideas, prompts or suggestions!


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